Never coming home
by I love Michael Jackson
Summary: Arthur, now 14, just cannot face the pain of life anymore. A OneShot Arthur darkfic/songfic. Lyrics copywright "The Ghost of You" by My Chemical Romance.


Never coming home

14-year-old Arthur Read was crying alone in his room, blasting the song "The Ghost of You" by MCR. The lyrics could relate so well to what he was dealing with…

_At the end of the world  
Or the last thing I see  
You are  
Never coming home  
Never coming home_  
Buster Baxter, Arthur's best friend since childhood, had been forced to move to Japan because of his mom's job transfer. He had to face the realization that his best friend was never coming home…

_And all the things that you never ever told me  
And all the smiles that are ever ever..._

Ever...  
Get the feeling that you're never  
All alone and I remember now  
At the top of my lungs in my arms she dies  
She dies  
This had been the reason Arthur had gone EMO the summer before high school started. "I promise to write you, Arthur." Buster had said as the car drove away. But he hadn't written Arthur since. He's probably having fun in Japan, Arthur thought. _Too busy to give a shit about me. _**FLASHBACK:** **Arthur had insisted that his mom take him shopping at Hot Topic. "Why do you want to wear all those dark, scary clothes, Arthur?" His mom had asked him when they went to the mall that day. "Because," Arthur drawled, "it's who I am now. I have no one to hang out with or turn to when I'm down, so why bother?" "Whatever." Arthur's mom said as they got into the car. "HA HA!" Arthur's ten-year-old preppy sister, D.W. taunted at him, "Arthur's gone EMO!" "Shut the fuck up!" Arthur yelled, and then started crying. **

That was two months ago. This was now. And Arthur still couldn't get over it…

But what the fuck was he supposed to do? Try to fit in with all the jocks and preps and popular kids and all the other cliques? Hell, no. Sure, Arthur and Buster used to hang out with Muffy Crosswire, Francine Frensky, Binky Barnes, George, and the Brain back in the day. But ever since middle school had started, they had all gone their separate ways.

Muffy was now the biggest slut in school, Francine was a loud and proud lesbian, Binky was a stoner, and the Brain was one of those nerds that thought they were better than everyone else. And George, well, Arthur didn't really want to think about it.

**FLASHBACK: The summer before eighth grade. Arthur and Buster were still tight. They still cared about George as a friend, but George didn't want to talk to anyone, not even his closest friends from elementary school. Arthur and Buster knew George was going through some tough shit at home: His parents got divorced, his dad had remarried some 22-year-old skank, and his mom was a raging alcoholic. Neither one of them gave a shit about George. Come to think of it, no one ever really had. GEORGE'S POV/SUICIDE NOTE: Whenever I tried to say something or try to make someone laugh, they would always go "Shut up, George!" Because I knew no one cared. And the teachers had given up on me, too. They all thought I was stupid as fuck because of my dyslexia. But Albert Einstein was a dyslexic! Still, no one gave a shit about me, and here I am, 13 years old, about to enter the third grade again because no one's even willing to give me a chance. To all of you people who called yourselves my "best friends": **_**BULLSHIT.**_** You all are off in your own little worlds, not even caring to take the time to talk to me for five fucking minutes. Well, gotta go, I'm almost at the bridge now, gonna jump, see you in hell, motherfuckers! And then he died.**

(end of Georges POV)

(end of Flashback)

_And all the wounds that are ever gonna scar me  
For all the ghosts that are never gonna catch me_

If I fall...  
If I fall...  
Down  
Whoa whoa hah whoa...

Arthur couldn't take it anymore. He went to the kitchen to find his dad's sharpest knife. He had to release all this pain that was inside him., all the shit that he had to go through, and all the changes he just couldn't cope with. Arthur found a blade that was sharp enough to pierce steel. He then ran to his room…

Arthur dragged the blade across the tender skin of his wrist, letting the dark crimson blood come to the surface and flow. Yes, it hurt, but it was sending Arthur on a kind of high (For those of you that don't know, cutting releases endorphins. I learned that from House). _Fuck cutting_, Arthur thought. He knew what he had to do.

**ARTHUR'S POV/SUICIDE NOTE/POEM:**

To all of you who caused me all this pain 

**Many friends I've lost and many tears I've gained.**

**To all of you that said you'd always care**

**I knew you didn't give a shit because your heart just wasn't there. **

**To all of you that said you would be there until the end**

**Fuck you all for calling yourself my best friends.**

Arthur stabbed himself in the throat.


End file.
